


Beloved. Âzyungel.

by KaavyaWriting



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Gift Fic, M/M, Pain-Bearer fanfic, Vague References to Past Abuse, vague references to past violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 10:40:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1384510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaavyaWriting/pseuds/KaavyaWriting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo has nightmares. Thorin is there to comfort him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beloved. Âzyungel.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lilithiumwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Pain-Bearer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/628384) by [lilithiumwords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilithiumwords/pseuds/lilithiumwords). 



> This is a speculative fanfic of the future of Lilithiumword's Pain-Bearer, which is one of the most beautifully written fics in fandom: a dark AU where Erebor never fell to Smaug but the Shire falls to orcs. It is intense, detailed and so, so vivid, and I don't have enough words to give it all the praise it deserves. So if you don't know it, go check it out right now (no really, run!), but mind the tags! Saying that, I think this can be read as a standalone, but truly, go check out the glorious fic this is based off. <3

When Bilbo woke, hours had passed. The fire was low, and Bilbo blinked in the dim light, hardly recognizing where he was. He breathed in the scent of the blankets and mumbled, "Thorin?" sitting up as the thick fur fell off his body. White and soft as rabbit's fur, not the wolf-brown he'd been dreaming of only moments before. For a moment he did not know where he was.

Thorin hummed—a low, warm sound, like dissolving honey—to let Bilbo know he was there, if not in bed. Bilbo let himself fall back into the pillows, the tension of nightmares slowly bleeding out of him as the sights and sounds of Thorin's chambers reasserted themselves in his mind. Their _chambers now, properly,_ he thought muzzily.

There was the distant whisper of cloth and the shuffling noise of paper being set aside, then Thorin's footsteps padded across the heavily carpeted floor, so quiet Bilbo knew Thorin must still be barefoot.

"Good morning, beloved," Thorin said, sitting on the bed at Bilbo's side. He was careful not to suddenly loom over Bilbo, as he ever was since the early days of their romance. They'd both learned the hard way that startling Bilbo when he was groggy never led to anything good, and Thorin had taken to making his presence known with words and noises before touching.

Bilbo sometimes wondered what Thorin thought of all his scars—mental, not physical, as Bilbo was perfectly aware of Thorin's feelings on the latter—for half the time even Bilbo found his own quirks confusing, and constantly frustrating. Even still, after so many years. Like, why did he find such comfort in sleeping curled up in Thorin's arms, but Thorin waking him was so startling? They had discussed such things, often at great depth, but still, he did wonder…

Thorin's hand came to rest on Bilbo's other side, bracing his weight as he leaned down, unknowingly shaking Bilbo from his thoughts. His hair fell around them like a curtain as he pressed a kiss to Bilbo's forehead, his temple, the tip of his ear. His nose nuzzled against Bilbo's curls. Another soft kiss whispered against his earlobe, and again just behind, where jaw met neck.

"Thorin," Bilbo said again, more a breathy, pleased sigh than anything else. He finally let himself melt the rest of the way back into the mattress. He felt Thorin's small, pleased smile skate against his cheek.

"Beloved," Thorin purred again, voice teasing, and he pressed one more kiss against the corner of Bilbo's mouth.

" _Thorin_ ," this time with a note of irritation. It was far too early to be teased. In fact, "What hour is it?"

"Early," was all Thorin said.

Bilbo huffed, but couldn't stop his smile. "And you're up… why?"

"Letters from Frerin." He didn't bother elaborating. Bilbo did not have long to wonder how Frerin was faring in Mirkwood before Thorin was leaning down again, lips whispering against Bilbo's own.

Bilbo quickly jerked his head to the side. "No!" he protested quickly. "Absolutely not. My breath must be awful and you," he made sure the 'you' sounded especially accusatory, "have bathed and undoubtedly cleaned your teeth, so I think not—"

It was at that point that Thorin's mouth had finally caught Bilbo's own, much to his chagrin. Initially Thorin had pulled back, worried for all of two seconds before Bilbo's protesting speech had registered, and then he'd promptly moved back down, lips trailing from Bilbo's ear again down to his cheek and the corner of his mouth. He'd slipped his hand up to cradle Bilbo's cheek, no doubt to foil any attempt at another escape, dratted dwarf.

But the kiss was lovely, Bilbo's concern about morning breath aside. And if Thorin didn't care enough to mind where teeth and tongue were wandering, well. Bilbo wouldn't either. He let his hands wander up to twine in Thorin's hair, one sneaking into the braids at his temple, the other curling encouragingly at the nape of his neck; both excellent spots to pull his dwarf closer. Thorin's tongue flicked into Bilbo's mouth before he pulled back just enough to tease his lower lip. Bilbo groaned.

It was leisurely, a slow dance of lips and tongues, a comforting, familiar exploration more than anything else. When Thorin eventually pulled away he only shifted enough to rest his forehead lightly against Bilbo's own, hand still cradling his cheek. Warm, moist air brushed against their cheeks, breath shared between them.

"What did you dream, to distress you so, my beloved?" Thorin's thumb stroked slowly across his cheekbone, hand comfortably warm against Bilbo's skin. Thorin's body always ran hotter than Bilbo's own and pressing into him felt like curling up before a fire. Bilbo shivered.

"Memories," he admitted reluctantly, more because they'd agreed on such honesty than any desire to discuss it. He'd much rather go back to kissing, and perhaps get up long enough to move over to the couch and curl up together before the fireplace.

Thorin hummed inquiringly, thumb still stroking maddeningly slowly, perfectly steady. They were too close for Bilbo to focus on Thorin's face, and all he could see were pools of his dwarf's beautiful blue eyes.

"Memories of long ago, years and years," Bilbo said, suppressing a sigh. "Muddled bits and pieces, of—of him, and the Shire, you after the March, and Beorn, and traveling through the Wild. And… Mordor too," he whispered the last, those memories a little too fresh to bear. He felt Thorin tense above him, and found his own fingers stroking comforting circles at the nape of Thorin's neck, still curled there after their toe-curling kiss. "It is past, Thorin, _âzyungel_."

And it _was_ past. As soon as the Ring—both awful, evil rings—had fallen into the depths of Mount Doom Bilbo had felt the weight lift away, as though he'd finally come out into the light after too many years walking in the dark. It had been frighteningly like that first terrifying time he'd stepped out of Azog's caves and at the same time like the moment he knew—really understood—he was _free_ , truly free and rid of Azog.

"I will keep you safe, Bilbo." Thorin said it more to himself, as though he were promising himself and if he believed it strongly enough it would be truth. He drew in a shuddering breath. His eyes had slid shut in pain, and his free hand tangled with Bilbo's, as though letting go would cause Bilbo to vanish before his eyes. Yet that thumb swept steadily and gently across Bilbo's cheek. Bilbo curled his arm around Thorin's back, as much as he could anyway, considering how much larger Thorin was than him. But Bilbo held on just as tightly for all of that.

"I think we have both figured out we can't keep each other safe from life, _âzyungel_ ," Bilbo said. Perhaps that wasn't the most soothing thing to say, but it was the truth, and he knew Thorin found the truth as comforting as he himself did. "But I know you will be at my side no matter what I face in the future, as I will be by yours." He smiled innocently. "You will not so easily escape my aid."

Thorin barked a startled laugh, and the tension broke from the air. "Will you never let me live my foolish words down?"

"No," Bilbo said, with great satisfaction. "And I have them in writing no less. No, my dear, silly dwarf, I am afraid you shall live with those haunting words all our days."

Thorin buried his head against Bilbo's neck, his shoulders shaking as he suppressed his laughter. When he pulled back he nuzzled and kissed Bilbo's ear. "Is that a promise?"

Bilbo feigned serious consideration. "I do believe it is." And he smiled brightly.

**Author's Note:**

> Khuzdul:  
>  _âzyungel_ \- love of loves
> 
> So much love to Lilithiumwords and Pain-Bearer. It needs repeating: if you've not read Pain-Bearer, go check it out (but consult the tags, because the fic contains triggers!), it is so gorgeous!


End file.
